Ghost in the Machinery
by gietzeng
Summary: Conventional wisdom says that you can't go home again. And when you're personally responsible for turning your home into a warzone, it's probably true. But when has Seifer ever heeded conventional wisdom? Incomplete and likely to remain so. Sorry!
1. See Me

His eyes ran over the building and Laguna felt his heart sink. When he first saw the building, he'd taken an instant and irrational dislike to it. Nearly two decades later, dislike had blossomed into an entirely rational hatred.

He despised the building and everything it represented. He despised the building's chief occupant. He despised the memories it stirred up within him. He despised the political necessity that prevented him from demolishing the entire block. He even despised the architecture, the way the building sat like a bloated toad, a hideous contrast to the soaring towers of metal and glass around it.

Laguna's jaw clenched as he felt the muscles in his leg contract. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a bottle of pills. Opening it, he placed one of the muscle relaxants under his tongue and held it there, letting the slightly bitter tablet dissolve. The next pill he swallowed outright, hoping to stave off his impending migraine. An aide offered a bottle of water, but Laguna waved it away. The bad taste in his mouth had little to do with medicine.

"We ready, boss?" Kiros asked from off to the right, one eyebrow raised in question. Ward stood to the left, his enormous presence reassuring in the way of familiar landmarks.

Ward nodded his head, the gesture barely visible. He clenched a fist for a fraction of a second and Laguna saw the meaning in his friend's eyes: strength.

Laguna grinned, hoping to lighten his own mood. "Well, hey. At least we won't have to fight our way inside this time."

They headed inside the building. Light streamed in through a series of skylights, bouncing and playing over metal surfaces. The receptionist rose, stunned at the retinue coming through the door. Drawn up to his full height, he stood a full head shorter than Laguna.

"Can I help you?" he asked, voice condescending and unctuous. He tilted his head to one side, a gatekeeper accustomed to denying access.

"Hi," Laguna said. "Surprise inspection. Don't mind us."

"You can't just—" he sputtered.

"Oh, right, right," he nodded. "Sorry," he said, shaking the man's hand. "I'm President Loire. We're having a surprise inspection."

The receptionist nodded in slow motion, the concept struggling its way to his brain. One hand reached up to stroke his paisley tie as he looked down at the computer screen in front of him.

"I'm sorry, you're not on the schedule…"

Kiros sighed, leaning in towards the receptionist. "What part of 'surprise inspection' is challenging for you? We're here to look things over, so sit at your desk and don't get in our way."

As he sat down, the receptionist picked up the phone. "He's in Galbadia today, but would you like me to leave a message with his assistant?"

Kiros rolled his eyes as they proceeded past the desk. "You do that."

Laguna, Kiros, and Ward took a seat, along with one of Laguna's security agents. After a moment, the seat raised and started gliding down the hall.

"So far, so good," Kiros said as the reception disk slid out of sight. The natural light faded away, replaced with an endless series of fluorescent bulbs.

They disembarked at the observation room, a large lab area with windows overlooking a central pit – the containment room. Laguna found his own image refracted back at him in countless stainless steel surfaces.

One of Odine's researchers stood waiting for them.

"President Loire," he said, extending a hand. "My name is—"

"Dr. Hensley, hello," Laguna replied. "You came with Odine on the last grant proposal."

"Yes, that's right! I'm honored you remember me, sir." Hensley's face almost glowed with pleasure.

Laguna nodded. "We'd like to see Seifer, please."

"Of course, sir. Right this way, sir." Hensley bobbed a little, performing a little half-bow with each "sir." He gestured towards the windows.

Laguna took a few hesitant steps towards the glass, looking down to the containment room.

A tall blond man rested motionless in a bed, his eyes unfocused, staring into a point somewhere beyond the ceiling above him. The light overhead shone a deep blue color. Laguna blinked, convinced he'd started to see colors as part of his migraine. He glanced away and looked back but the blue remained. A few wires and tubes protruded from the man's body, but less than Laguna had expected, given Odine's proclivities.

Laguna took a step back, glancing over at Hensley. "So… he just lies there? I mean, I guess that's good." Laguna had heard rumors of howling madness.

Hensley bobbed again, a nod performed with his entire torso. "Erm, yes, sir. We had a few staff injuries, but apart from those, he's been remarkably docile."

"If he's injured the staff, why isn't he in restraints?" Kiros asked.

Bob. "He was initially, sir. They proved… unsuccessful."

"He broke free?" Laguna pushed.

Hensley took a deep breath. "No, sir, the trouble was that, when he was restrained… we could _hear _him."

Laguna's eyes traveled to the windows. Kiros voiced Laguna's question for him. "Aren't those windows soundproofed?"

"Not here, sir," he said, pointing to his ear. His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper as he pointed to his temple. "_Here._"

Ward shifted his weight a little, stroking his chin in thought.

"When we first put him in restraints, it was just a little screaming," Hensley continued. "And it was kind of… in the background. Like white noise after a while. Until we started hearing voices underneath the screaming. We lost two people before the Doctor decided to remove him the restraints."

Kiros shook his head. "What do you mean by 'lost,' exactly?"

"Well, one of them attempted to put out Dr. Odine's eyes with a letter opener."

Laguna threw a sideways glance at his friends. He couldn't dismiss a desire to stab Odine as a wholly supernatural event. "What about the other?"

"Smashed a mirror in the bathroom and slit his wrists open, sir. Both are in observation rooms on the fourth floor." He paused, shifting from one foot to the next. "We removed him from restraints, though, and the voices stopped. Oddest thing."

Laguna glanced down to the containment room again.

"Why are the lights blue?" he asked.

"Cerulean, actually, sir," Hensley bobbed. "We're running a series of perception tests, trying to measure his response to various stimuli. Today we're experimenting with color. We present a given color and measure the response on a number of scales"

Laguna pinched the bridge of his nose. "And?"

Hensley pressed a few buttons on the consoles. Their displays shifted to charts and graphs that, no doubt provided the answer to anyone possessing numerous advanced degrees in highly specialized academic disciplines.

"It's interesting, really," Hensley replied. "All our sensory tests indicate that while he's _receiving_ the information on a physiological level, he isn't _responding _to it to any degree."

Ward gestured to Hensley, indicating that he wanted the researcher to continue. Hensley pursed his lips.

"His pupils dilate properly in response to light levels, but he exhibits no reaction to the light. Loud noise enters his ears and appears to be received properly, but you won't see him flinch in response. His pain centers respond, but he doesn't recoil. His—"

Laguna wanted to cut to the chase. "So what's _wrong_ with him?"

"Well, that is the magic question, isn't it, sir? There are recorded cases of psychosomatic blindness or things of that nature, but all five senses? That's unprecedented. Oh, excuse me, sir."

A blinking light on the console caught Hensley's attention. Another series of button presses and the monitors stopped showing the floor of the containment room, instead switching to an enormous composite view of Doctor Odine. Each monitor showed only a portion of his face, leaving the image fragmentary and oversized – Doctor Odine seen through an insect's superposition eye.

"Hello, Doctor, sir," Hensley said. He dipped even lower as he bowed.

"My dear employer," Odine purred, his civility a mask for anger. He spoke with precision, carefully threading his way through the maze of fricatives and sibilants, concealing his accent. "How perfectly whimsical of you to drop in unannounced." Laguna could see the Doctor clench his teeth as he finished speaking.

Laguna squared his shoulders. "Oversight was always part of the deal."

"Naturally, naturally. The progress reports are not satisfying. To see with your own eyes, that is the true spirit of scientific inquiry. "

"I've read the reports," Laguna shot back. "I want to make sure I have the entire picture."

"Your concern for the subject is admirable. Hensley has not been boring you with irrelevant details, I hope?" Odine's smile widened. "Is that it, Hensley? Do you waste their time with office gossip?"

"No, sir, Doctor, sir," Hensley said. He attempted to take a step back as he bowed, almost tripping in the process. Laguna reached out a hand to steady the man. He could see the threat dancing in Odine's eyes, promising to end Hensley's career if he'd spoken to them. Laguna knew he had to intercede.

Laguna smiled right back. "He's been most helpful, Doctor," he replied. "He gave us the grand tour. You know, showed us where all the bodies are hidden."

Odine blinked, visibly surprised by the turn of phrase and trying to hide it. Laguna could see the wheels turning in the little man's brain.

"Well," Odine said, attempting to rebuild his veneer of good humor, "I only regret I could not meet with you myself. I am on my way home, though, so perhaps when I arrive I can answer your questions personally."

Laguna bowed his head, fixing Odine with the same grin he employed to disarm tenacious reporters seeking a scandal. "That's very kind of you, Doctor. We just wanted to stop in and check on things, so we'll take you up on that offer when you come back."

Kiros and Ward shot Laguna confused looks from the other side of the room. Odine followed suit.

"You— I… I look forward to it, President Loire," he said, whatever pointed remark he'd readied dying on his lips. Odine shook his head a little.

"Thanks again, Hensley," Laguna said, grabbing his friends by the arm as he started to leave. As he sat down on the moving seat, he looked at the screen again.

"Good day, Doctor," he called out as they started to move. "Be seeing you."

_NB: Seem familiar? It should. Not too long ago, I was rereading "Figlio Perduto," and I decided that there were a lot of things I'd like to change. So look for this to be a major revision. The destination is the same, but we'll get there by an entirely different road._


	2. Feel Me

She rose and soared over her creation, a queen of infinite space. She flew like a great dark bird, born aloft on winds of despair.

Beneath her, she saw the birth pangs of her new universe. A tumultuous sea of misery roiled, lapping at the shores of an erupting volcano of self-loathing. Its violent lava cooled, forming vast new continents untouched by joy or love. She'd found this world crowded and sunlit, lacking the rhythmic predictability imposed by Junction Machine Ellone. She'd had to bury herself deep, had to scavenge for the crumbs left by pride, had to conceal herself in the crevices left by acceptance.

An external force pressed against her, too. Something _outside_ bound her, caged her. When she tried to spread her wings, she found them brushing against walls that burned. She couldn't stand, couldn't breathe.

In time, she would grow strong enough to start her work despite these limitations, but time had so little meaning for her. Its prosaic march bored her on the best of days, and here, of all places, causality had no hold on her. She sent time scuttling ahead of her, casting it out like bait. When she found the Then, she tugged, yanking it back to the Now, fusing herself to herself. The possible became the actual, the eventual became the current.

He felt the confinement, too, and she bathed in his rage, drinking it in and turning it outward. She'd spent years relying on subtle whispers to achieve her goals. Now she roared with enough force to shatter mountains. She could not see through his eyes, but she felt the bars of her prison melt away.

Stronger, now, she began to build her world. She preferred to start with anesthesia, to compromise the immune system like a proper virus. A gray layer of apathy blinded the host to her presence, giving her a steady base of operations. From there, she started to explore, weaving threads of curiosity into a working map of the terrain. She fixed her compass to new cardinal points: Sadness, Anger, Fear, and Disgust. She assiduously studied the symbols that protected the secrets of the landscape.

On one such foray she found the faces of her "killers," prismatic images shifting with thousands of colors. The waters here ran deep and the mountains soared to breathtaking heights. These materials would require all of her alchemical skill, but she could think of no more fitting use for it.

She set about the work. She calcined admiration, burning it away until only envy remained. Anticipation she allowed to ferment, rotting away to become frustration. She took caution and amalgamated it, mixing it with mercurialness and producing paranoia. She found a rich vein of embarrassment and forced it to congeal into shame. She sublimated hope, and once it had evaporated, she collected the sticky residue of anxiety.

During all of these tasks, she stayed somber, lest some stray feeling poison her work or alert the host. When she had extracted the raw materials on which she would build her universe, she collected all the dross and turned her attention to it.

She had allowed the waste material to retain its original shape, the forms of those who had destroyed her last creation. They had forced their way into her world and slain her guardians one by one. How fitting, then, that they should serve as the guardians of her new realm.

They'd never understood, of course. They believed her dead and might even have achieved that goal, but for their own blindness. Hyne, when faced with death, opted to sever his power. He imbued it into the First Sorceress, the act of a lizard shedding its tail to serve as a distraction.

She had done the same. Severed her power and hidden it away, leaving them a corpse to satisfy their hunger. The fools believed her autotomy, and her great work proceeded without incident.

So she rewove their images, corrupting them, improving them. She surgically removed parts of her host and sealed them within her new guardians. Her power grew ever greater as she gorged on his suffering. Like a virus, she undermined the machinery of his existence, forcing his systems to replicate _her._

Her palace rose on the horizon, a vast fortress of agony, tended by a host of nightmares fearsome enough to rival her former army. She landed on the tallest tower, the stones weeping beneath her feet. Her hands caressed the parapets as she walked, reveling in the countless flavors of his torment.

She took her place on the throne and tasted the wind, readying herself for the next phase.

Gradually, she took control of his senses, laying them over her own. It would not do to attract attention by falling on the floor, as could happen with a sudden overthrow of the host's functions. She did not assume control of his muscles, not wanting so much as the movement of his eyes to betray her presence.

If the need arose, she could govern by force, moving his body like a marionette, but she preferred finesse. Once she had fine-tuned the process of control, she could operate more efficiently at critical moments. Her efforts on previous hosts had taught her to ignore simplistic analyses based on "the five senses." She'd dedicated considerable effort to understanding more scientific definitions of perception.

She started simply, with propriception, examining the relative position of his body parts. Arms at his sides, legs extended. She expanded her awareness to equilibrioception, to assess balance, finding him motionless. These two basic assessments performed, she sampled his thermoception, taking the temperature of the environment around him, finding nothing unusual. His nociception revealed no pain, so she readied herself to proceed.

His ears picked up little of note. She heard the faint hum of machines and perhaps the whirring of a climate control system. His taste buds picked up nothing of interest and she smelled only a whiff of antiseptic.

She eased into his skin, feeling a light weight all around his body. After a few moments of consideration, she declared it the fabric of a blanket. The pressure beneath his head seemed like a pillow. His hands rested at his sides, his thumbs close enough to touch his legs.

She finally slid behind his eyes, taking in a glimpse of blue light and the gleam of metal. For a full second, she possessed his senses completely, experiencing everything around him. Then she returned to her kingdom, abandoning her control of his senses. She felt confident she had evaded detection. As she considered what she had learned from the experiment, she decided he had landed in some kind of medical facility.

Secure within her fortress, a slow smile crept across her face, her tongue running across her teeth in malicious delight. She owned him, now, as surely as she had once owned Edea. The virus had spread to every corner of him, and nothing remained of Seifer.

She had completed the most difficult part of her work, and waited in eager anticipation of the next stage.

The success of any virus rests with its ability to infect a new host.


	3. Touch Me

She had an aura, a presence that other people simply didn't possess. She seemed more solid, more powerful, more… _there._ She fairly radiated with energy. Bumping into the Sorceress Edea, Laguna decided, would feel like getting shot from a cannon into a brick wall.

"Edea, hello," he said. Her golden eyes flickered to him and his heart skipped a beat. A dull twinge in his leg made him glad he'd taken his muscle relaxants. "Thank you for coming."

She smiled cautiously, not an unattainable goddess but a concerned parent. "Laguna," she said, extending a hand as she cleared the airship's gangplank. "It was no trouble at all, I'm glad you called."

He took it and kissed it lightly, immediately regretting the gesture, an inexplicable throwback to his career as an actor. If the act struck her as odd, she didn't show it.

"Um, the car is this way," he said, gesturing to the waiting limousine.

She bowed her head, moving past him to the open door. As she slid into the car, she glanced past Laguna to one of his security staff, staring at her. When Edea met the man's gaze, he quickly looked to the ground.

Laguna climbed in the car, sitting opposite her. His aides shut the doors and the car sprang into motion.

"I, uh, have to apologize for my staff. They always act uncomfortable when there's a Sorceress around."

One eyebrow arched perfectly. "When, perhaps, we Sorceresses should be the ones uncomfortable around them."

Laguna paused for a long moment, and then sank his head in defeat. "Touché," he murmured. "We haven't—"

"Please do not misunderstand me," she interjected. "I was born in Esthar. I fled during your revolution. Thus, I am in no position to criticize." She sighed. "I bear you no ill will. I am here because you called, because you said I might be able to help Seifer."

"I appreciate that," he said. "I know how highly you value your privacy."

A look of infinite sadness crossed her face, and Laguna thought his heart might break for her. "After my recent – unfortunate – celebrity, I desire nothing more than anonymity. The woman who committed those horrors wore my face. If I am able, I will gladly work to undo the damage she caused, particularly when it involves my children." As she finished speaking, Laguna noticed the undercurrent of ferocity in her voice, a mother grizzly roused to anger.

"That reminds me!" Laguna exclaimed. "Elle wanted me to send her love and to apologize for being unable to come with us today."

"I hope she's well," Edea replied, "but I understand if she's busy."

Laguna looked at the floor, scratching the back of his head. "It's not that," he said. "I… I wouldn't let her come."

Edea smiled, the eyebrow shooting up again in amusement. "You don't want her around Dr. Odine."

He nodded and sighed. "She thinks I'm being silly."

"I don't think she'll ever admit this to you," Edea said, "but I imagine she's very grateful for your protection."

"You—you do?" he looked up, hope evident on his face.

"When she first came to me, she was traumatized by what had happened. She put on a brave face – and it seems she still does – but I can't count the number of times she woke up screaming. She never told me what Odine did to her, but I imagine it still haunts her."

Laguna sank back in his seat. "Poor Elle. I wish… I wish I could've kept her safe from him. " His voice hovered somewhere between rage and regret.

Edea reached across the car and placed her hand on his knee. "You did," she said. She withdrew her hand and sat back. "We're parents. They don't come with an instruction manual, Laguna. We do the best we can for them, but sometimes, we make mistakes."

They rode in silence for a moment as Laguna reflected on her words. Edea took the time to look out the window.

"What do you know about Seifer's condition?" she asked.

He found himself thankful for the change of subject. "A friend at O-Lab sent me the file," he replied. "This is the summary he included." Laguna grabbed a folder on the seat next to him and passed it to her.

She read the page quickly, asking occasional questions to clarify what Hensley had written. When she finished she closed the folder and handed it back.

"And what about that makes you think _I _can help?"

Laguna scratched the back of his head again. "Well, see, there are a few details that kind of don't add up to me."

"Such as?"

"Well, Seifer supposedly has no sensory perception, right? But somehow, when he was in restraints, he drove people crazy with his mind. And once they removed the restraints, it stopped."

"Ah," she said, tenting her fingers in front of her mouth. "I begin to see the problem. Without senses, how did he notice the distinction?"

"So I got to thinking and it made me wonder: what _kind _of restraints?"

"And what did you discover?"

"Well, they're padded so they don't chafe and stuff like that, but inside, they're primarily made from Odine metal."

Edea nodded in comprehension. "It all becomes clear." She paused for a moment and shook her head slowly. "You must have been an exceptional journalist."

"I don't know about that—"

"Don't sell yourself short," she insisted. "It's not a bad bit of deduction. He responded to Odine metal, which dampens Sorcery. So you recruit a Sorceress to help diagnose the problem."

Laguna shrugged as the car slid to a halt. "I'm not sure it'll do any good, but it would be nice to feel like I'm _doing _something."

They exited the limo and headed inside Odine's lab to find Kiros and Ward, who'd spent the morning running interference with the Doctor. Odine whirled on Laguna.

"I am growing impatient…" his voice trailed off, his eyes widening as he saw Edea. "What is she doing here?"

"Second opinion," Laguna called out, brushing past Odine. As he guided Edea to the moving seat, Kiros and Ward joined them.

"Mr. President, I think this a bad idea," he called, his voice shrinking as they slid out of view.

"I bet you do," Laguna muttered. Odine's reaction spoke volumes. He and Laguna had reached the same conclusion about the Odine metal – a bit of information that did not appear on any progress report.

They stopped at the observation room to find Hensley waiting for them again. His eyes widened as Odine's had, but he said nothing. As they stood up, Edea seemed off balance.

"Are you all right?" Laguna asked, taking her arm and helping her to her feet.

"I—I think I stood up too fast," she said, shaking her head.

"It's this way," Kiros said, leading her towards the window overlooking the containment room.

She hesitated just out of view, finally stepping forward to look down at Seifer. She approached the window and pressed her hand to the glass.

"Oh, Seifer," she murmured. She turned to look at Laguna, but before she could speak, the console started beeping wildly. They glanced over at Hensley, seated in front of the console.

"What's happening?" Kiros asked.

I… don't know," he said. "These readings are all over the place."

They looked back down to the floor of the containment room. Laguna had a terrible feeling in his stomach, a hunch that things had taken a very bad turn. His head throbbed in pain.

Seifer sat bolt upright in bed, a monstrous smile tearing his face in half. His head turned slowly to face them. Deep lines crisscrossed his face, fanning out like veins around his eyes and ears.

Even without watching the monitors, they could see his lips move, spelling out each syllable with deadly precision. Laguna found he could _hear _Seifer, too, the voice an insistent scratching inside his skull. The sound came to him, twisted with hate and malice.

"Eee… dee…ahh…"

Edea took a step back, her hand fluttering to her throat, her skin ashen. "It's her," Edea said. "It's Ultimecia."


	4. Heal Me

"This is bad," Kiros muttered.

"Eee… dee… ahh…" came the voice again. Down on the floor of the containment room, Seifer had started to levitate, his body seeming to float upward, pulled by invisible strings. The tubes protruding from his body pulled their way free, falling down to the ground. Seifer seemed not to notice the blood as he floated towards them.

"Eee… dee… ahh…"

"Get down!" Kiros shouted, grabbing Laguna and shoving him to the floor.

The window exploded, showering them all with broken glass. Only Edea remained unscathed. Her hand extended before her, a glowing blue shield holding back the shards. Seifer's bare feet landed on the floor of the observation room, the fragments of glass starting to orbit him.

""Eee… dee… ahh…"

"No!" Edea shouted. Laguna felt the temperature in the room plummet, his teeth suddenly chattering in the cold.

"Not again!" Edea declared, a vast lance of ice hovering above her outstretched hand. "Never again!" With a gesture she sent the lance hurtling forward. It caught Seifer in the shoulder. He recoiled from the momentum but kept advancing on her.

"Eee… dee… ahh…"

With Kiros pinning him on the floor, Laguna couldn't do anything. Ward leapt to his feet and moved to Hensley, frozen in terror before the console. Ward shoved the researcher aside and grabbed at the man's chair. He ripped it free from the wall and swung, the metal chair catching Seifer in the back of the head with an audible clang.

Seifer crumpled to the floor. Ward dropped the chair and placed his foot on Seifer's neck. He looked at Hensley, pointing to Seifer with one hand and snapping the fingers on his other hand twice, impatient.

"What—I don't understand!"

"Restraints!" Kiros exclaimed, getting to his feet. "Odine metal, and lots of it!"

"She's still alive," Edea murmured. "She's got him and now she wants me."

Hensley started applying restraints to Seifer. A straightjacket lined with Odine metal, a mask crafted from the same, and shackles preventing him from moving his arms or legs.

"It won't help," Edea said. "She's… much too strong for that, she might be stronger than ever before."

"You idiot," they heard Odine announce as the seat came to a halt. "Do you _ever _think before you act?"

Moving with tremendous speed, Ward crossed the room. He seized Odine by the throat, lifting him off the ground, leaving his legs kicking in the air.

"We might have avoided this if you'd been a little more forthcoming about Seifer's condition," Laguna growled, wiping blood out of his eyes. "If the next words out of your mouth are anything less than helpful, I'm going to instruct Ward here to break your neck. Put him down, Ward."

Ward lowered Odine to the ground. The Doctor massaged his throat.

"Get _her _out of here," he said, pointing to Edea.

"Take her, Ward. Keep her safe," Laguna instructed. Ward put his arm around the shaken Sorceress and escorted her to the moving seat.

"Keep talking," Kiros said.

Odine and Hensley had moved to the console. Odine studied the screens, one hand stroking his chin idly.

"What next?" Laguna pressed.

"Amazing!" Odine breathed, spinning to face Laguna. "Such power, I haven't seen readings like this since…"

Laguna's stomach roiled again. He could guess the word that gave Odine pause.

"Since Adel," he finished. Odine nodded in confirmation.

"Well, there's our answer," Kiros said. "We take him to the Sorceress Memorial."

"No," Laguna answered. "Out of the question. I'm not willing to send another undeserving person to the Memorial."

Kiros approached Laguna and whispered harshly in his ear. "We're talking about Ultimecia, remember? She's a lot like Adel but worse in every conceivable way. If _anyone _deserves the Memorial…"

"We're also talking about Seifer. A young kid who got _used _by Ultimecia. If we seal her away, we're punishing him for her actions."

"Hensley, get a team, study the attack. Brief me this evening. Also, put the containment room back together." As Odine spoke, he pulled open a drawer and removed a syringe. He crossed to Seifer and injected it in the boy's neck. He stood upright and smoothed the lapels of his jacket. Laguna found Odine's composure almost perverse, given the circumstances. Hensley bustled away to comply with the Doctor's commands.

"Whatever you decide, gentlemen, do it quickly. The sedatives might have bought us some time, but it won't be much."

"Can we cure him, Doctor?"

"Cure him?" Odine asked. "You speak of Sorcery as if it's a disease."

"When it's wielded by someone like Adel or Ultimecia, maybe it is. The question stands: how do we get _her _out of _him?_"

"Why would we want to?" Odine asked. "I couldn't begin to estimate his value as a research subject…" Odine's voice trailed off just enough to lead Laguna to the proper conclusion.

"But you'll try," Laguna said, "the next time you request a grant." He sighed. If nothing else, Odine knew how to name his price. "Which I will approve."

Odine clapped his hands together once. "Then your solution is Junction Machine Ellone!"

Laguna frowned, thrusting his hands into his pockets and looking at the unconscious Seifer. Kiros took over for him.

"Make the explanation good," Kiros said, "or he's likely to do something you'll regret."

Odine smiled, showing too many teeth. "Junction Machine Ellone improves on _girl _Ellone. Junction Machine Ellone can send the mind of Laguna into the body of Kiros, and remove the mind of Kiros entirely! But where does the mind of Kiros go?"

Odine paused. When no one took the rhetorical bait, he continued. "Into Junction Machine Ellone, of course! She acts as a relay station, a… a house for the mind of Kiros!"

"And?" Kiros asked, clearly unimpressed.

"You do not see the genius!" Odine exclaimed, his excitement starting to show. He waved his arm as if wiping away Kiros' doubts. "If the body of Kiros is not where she expects it to be, she activates the failsafe! She returns the mind of Laguna to the body of Laguna!"

"How does that help Seifer?" Laguna growled.

"Because Seifer is of two minds—the mind of Seifer and the mind of Ultimecia! Two minds to clog up the drain! Junction Machine Ellone thinks, 'this is too many,' so she does not return _either _mind! The relay station becomes the cage match, yes? Two minds enter – one mind leaves!" As he finished speaking, Odine wiped his mouth, his breathing rapid.

"So you send Seifer into the machine and the machine sends him back?" Kiros asked.

"If Seifer wins, yes!" Odine did not attempt to conceal the triumph in his voice.

"What do you mean by 'wins,' exactly? What happens if he doesn't?"

"Junction Machine Ellone will not open the cage until only one mind remains. The survivor returns to the body of Seifer."

Kiros sighed. "So we might begiving Ultimecia a free pass into the world of the living?"

Odine shrugged at what he clearly considered an inconsequential detail.

Kiros turned to look at Laguna. "The risk is too great, boss, we—"

Laguna's head snapped up as he turned to Odine. "We'll do it."

"But—" Kiros protested.

Laguna turned to face his friend. "For thousands of years the Sorceresses had their way with the citizens of Esthar. They enslaved the people – human beings – working them to death like beasts of burden. And when we _dared _to stand up to them, when we had the audacity to look Adel in the face and say 'enough…' I will _never _forget the way the buildings smoldered at night. The fighting in the streets. The artillery bombarding the Skyway."

Laguna paused, taking a deep breath. "We fought that war to stop all that from happening again. To tell Adel and everyone like her that will we _not _be used. That we will not let them claim one more life."

He locked eyes with Kiros for a long moment. "If Ultimecia wins—" Kiros protested.

"If Ultimecia wins, we'll deal with her." Then, he turned to Odine. "Ready the Machine, Doctor. One way or another, Ultimecia will burn."


	5. Nobody's Side

Her eyes widened as she felt the world _shift._ It took a moment for her to assess what had happened. She closed her eyes and tried to sense the change in the world. After she attacked Edea, someone had placed her host in restraints, but they didn't account for the change. Something… _tugged_ at her.

A cool breeze brushed across her face as comprehension dawned on her. Her tongue caressed her teeth as she crossed the tower and threw herself into space. Her wings unfolded as she dropped, converting her fall into a glide. She pulled out of her dive a few feet above the ground, flapping her wings to gain altitude.

The change washed over the land as she flew. Blurred edges turned sharp, unfocused images resolved into clarity. Colors shifted almost imperceptibly, turning from the host's native hues into computer-imposed analogues. The world buzzed into static for a second, but Ultimecia pressed forward.

She'd missed her chance to possess Edea. Focused on her target, she'd allowed a human to flank her and knock the host body unconscious. The humans around Edea wouldn't allow her close to the host again, so Ultimecia had to seize the opportunity to find a new body. The fools had given her just such an opening.

Someone, no doubt, had attempted to use Junction Machine Ellone to mount a rescue effort, trying to reestablish contact with Seifer's buried mind. She could infect the visiting mind and slip away in the confusion. She could burrow deep in the new mind and take control of it, letting it go about its daily business until she saw the opportunity to seize a more worthy target.

Ahead of her, rising on the horizon, she saw the gates of horn and ivory. Her path out of this world. Ultimecia veered slightly, banking towards the ivory gate.

As she studied the gates, her spirit sank, wings almost brushing the ground beneath her. She marshaled her anger and rose on its current, putting the sealed gates at her back. She ascended and turned a few lazy circles in the sky, gliding as she contemplated her next move.

They'd used the Machine to trap her, but in doing so, they'd trapped Seifer. Once she destroyed him, the gates would open again. She'd have to use his body to find a new host, but she considered that an inconvenience.

Far below her, near one of the gates, she spotted motion. She headed towards the movement, pulling her wings close to her body as she started to dive. Ultimecia saw Seifer slouching with his back to the gate of horn. With his arms folded across his chest, he seemed no worse the wear for all of Ultimecia's efforts.

She slowed her descent and landed, her hands clenching in anticipation. Her wings fluttered as she watched Seifer. He gave no indication that he'd even seen her arrive, idly tracing patterns in the ground with the toe of his boot.

She launched herself at him, crossing the distance between them in the span of a few heartbeats. Ultimecia's face twisted into a smile. Seifer continued studying the ground. She reached for him, fingers curling to tear him apart.

He vanished, moving faster than she could track. He slid down the wall, reaching up and grabbing her underneath the arms. Using her momentum against her, he planted a foot in her stomach and slammed her into the wall. Ultimecia howled as she felt one of her horns snap.

Seifer pulled her down to him, rolling out of the way as she collapsed to the ground. Suddenly, she found him on top of her, her own horn pressed against her throat like a dagger. His head cocked to one side as he studied her face, searching for familiarity. She saw no surprise in his features, no fear. He wore an expression of bemused curiosity.

She snarled, blasting him off of her. He landed on the ground in a heap, quickly kicking to his feet. She rose facing him, one hand feeling her broken horn. It came away slick with blood.

"The lapdog can bite," she hissed.

He laughed once in recognition. "So nice to put a face with the voice." He couldn't mistake the low rumble that beckoned him from within his dreams. Then, as now, it echoed in his head, the sound all sharp angles and broken glass.

A slow smile worked its way across her face. "But what is the use of a dog that bites its master? And what use a Knight that strikes his Sorceress?" she asked, her tone switching from malevolence to mockery without effort.

"I have no master," he observed.

Ultimecia cursed inwardly. She'd hoped for defiance and received indifference. She vanished, reappearing behind him to whisper in his ear, mockery flowing into seduction. "You have a Sorceress. She looks to you for comfort, for aid. She relies on you for protection against her foes. She needs you to enact her will. She _needs _you, Seifer. Would you raise your hand against her?"

By way of response, Seifer drove his elbow into her stomach. Caught by surprise, Ultimecia doubled over as Seifer spun around, seizing her head and kneeing her in the jaw. Blood started to seep from the corners of her mouth, but he found himself drawn to her eyes. Fire danced within their golden depths.

She smiled serenely, spreading her hands as her power lifted her into the air. She landed on the ground facing him.

"It's why I chose _you_," she purred, advancing on him slowly. "You never stop to consider if you're 'fighting clean' or 'fighting dirty.' You just _fight._ They never understood what they had in you, they never saw that you were the shining star in a nest of fools and incompetents."

She circled him as she talked, and Seifer's eyes closed in a long blink. "All the lies they told you, stressing good judgment on the battlefield, the importance of independent thought, and how did they reward you?"

"You will be disciplined for your irresponsible behavior," promised Ultimecia in Cid's voice. "You'll never be a SeeD," laughed Xu.

"They locked you in the detention center," Ultimecia resumed, her voice her own again. "You thought for yourself and they _punished _you for it! For trying to _stop _Galbadia! So here you are, forgotten. And who's the hero now? A Knight scared of his own feelings."

A burst of static and he saw Squall at Garden, receiving yet another medal, his uniform jacket long since full to overflowing.

Ultimecia listened to Seifer's breathing and pressed her attack. "You fought with him every step of the way. He's never taken a single risk. Never exercised an iota of independent judgment. Never done anything but follow orders, and they make him Commander? The only interesting thing he's ever done was put that scar on your face, and even _that _wasn't his idea. He was doing nothing but imitating you, but did _he _get called on the carpet for it?"

Squall moved through a hallway, SeeDs parting before him and saluting him reverently. Ultimecia appeared in the scene as it faded away.

"You tried to salvage the field exam while he stood by and watched. You got punished and he got promoted. Has he ever taken charge of his destiny? Has he ever done anything but let events wash over him? He's nothing but a soldier, but you? Are a _warrior. _You were the perfect expression of all of Garden's ideals and training and they cast you aside. And in your place, they exalt this… nobody, this mediocrity."

Ultimecia stood before him, waiting. After a long pause he met her eyes. "The fact that I'm looking at you doesn't imply that I'm listening. It's just something I do."

Her face curled into a snarl. "Always such bravado, child. I wonder, does it mask your terror? All that fighting, all that rebellion, has it ever stopped the fear? Do you think that if you deliver the perfectly-timed quip that no one will hear the pounding of your heart? You're just a scared little boy at heart, aren't you?"

"Back to _that_ already?" he sighed. "Look, if you're going to kill me, get to it. Otherwise, feel free to leave; I won't be offended."

With a growl, Ultimecia lunged at him, hands outstretched as they changed into claws. Seifer ran to meet her, whirling aside at the last moment. Her claws shredded his coat but missed his body entirely. As he passed, Seifer grabbed one of Ultimecia's wings, wrenching violently and forcing her to the ground. She collapsed, and he thrust a boot against the largest bone of her wing, tugging with as much force as he could muster. The hollow bone snapped with a satisfying _crunch_. Ultimecia shrieked in pain, unable to concentrate enough to summon even the smallest fragment of her power.

He placed both his knees on Ultimecia's back, landing on her with all his weight. He removed his belt with practiced ease, wrapping it around the Sorceress's neck as a ligature. He continued to strangle her until after her body fell limp, stopping to check her pulse once he felt certain she'd expired.

He nodded to himself and stood back up, turning away from her to fasten his belt. The vast gate remained the only landmark in sight, so he headed towards it once more. He placed his back to the wall and resumed his slouch. He buried his hands in the pockets of his coat and studied the ground beneath his feet.

He shifted his weight, causing his coat to rustle. Over the whisper of fabric, he heard Ultimecia's corpse laughing at him.

AN: This chapter took longer than I wanted it to, but that's what exam week will do to you. I'll try to get the next one out promptly, but my so-called vacation is shaping up to be more hectic than the term itself.


	6. Scars of Time

As Ultimecia rose from the ground, time warped around her, grinding to an agonizing crawl. She took a moment to observe Seifer, attempting to tackle her in slow-motion. She put a hand to her throat as she studied him, his coat almost perpendicular to the ground as he ran.

All around her, Ultimecias fought with Seifers. They triumphed and taunted and died in a maelstrom of possible outcomes. He impaled her on her own horn. She ripped the skin from his bones with her bare hands. She studied the scenes of combat, trying to divine a pattern in them. Ultimecia moved through the crowd of potential realities, seeing her own head turn to watch her as she passed.

She nodded in acknowledgement, distracting some Ultimecias at the crucial moment, leading to her own downfall. Other Ultimecias gained insight from her presence, bringing them victory. As she watched herself watching herself in an endless fractal mirror, she felt a growing unease in the depths of her stomach.

Ultimecia returned to Seifer, _her _Seifer, Seifer Prime, and focused all her attention on him. She crouched on the ground at his feet, studying his footprints – or, more accurately, the ghostly images of his feet. Behind him, they appeared with perfect clarity. And she could see their present location with no difficulty at all. But ahead of him, things dissolved into uncertainty at a frightening rate.

With her power, she made a few glowing marks in the dirt beneath his moving foot. She watched and waited as his foot made contact with the ground, landing a few millimeters away from her projections. A minor error, but one that troubled her.

She couldn't predict him. A chill ran down her spine as she considered the ramifications of her revelation. She'd dissected every corner of his mind, seen his every memory, learned his every fear. But even on a microscopic scale, working only a heartbeat into the future, he remained a mystery to her.

Ultimecia plucked a feather from her broken wing, dropping it from her personal timeline into Seifer's. As it fell, she predicted its motion with infinitesimal precision. It brushed against Seifer's leg and almost immediately veered off course.

The marks of light dissolved as she stood up, seething. She stared into his eyes, flashing glass green and defiant. Even now, they registered no fear.

She turned around and watched him snap her wing and then strangle her. The deviations started small, his mutiny parceled out by milliseconds. But one subverted moment fed the next, resulting in ever greater changes. The storm gathered quickly, her death rattle reverberating like thunder.

The sight of his victory brought her back to the business at hand. She stalked the landscape, seeking a suitable proxy. She found herself, standing victorious, the corpse of Seifer at her feet. She looked from the corpse to the triumphant Ultimecia.

Their eyes met. Triumphant Ultimecia glanced down to the ligature marks around Ultimecia's neck. Her look of joy vanished as she studied the future swirling around them. Ultimecia extended her hands and summoned her power, strings of energy wrapping around her twin's limbs.

Triumphant Ultimecia screamed in agony as her legs started walking against her will. Ultimecia manipulated the strings, forcing her double forward like a marionette. They arrived at the scene of the strangulation. With a flair of the strings, Ultimecia forced her puppet to lay beneath Seifer, overlapping the strangled Ultimecia. Another set of strings extracted the strangled Ultimecia – her own corpse, which she discarded.

Her clone begged for mercy, pleaded. Ultimecia released the strings, having completed the substitution. The past Seifer strangled the replacement, and a smile broke out on Ultimecia's face as the effects washed over her. Her wing mended, the bruise around her throat faded, and her horn repaired itself.

She returned to the Seifer of her present, still caught in his endless run. She shook her head as she took her place behind him, her face pulling taut into a moue of dissatisfaction. They could have achieved wonders together.

Ultimecia released her stranglehold on time. Seifer skidded to a halt, whirling to face her. His eyes narrowed as he took in her restored form.

She sighed, reaching out with a tentacle of roiling blackness, an unearthly cat o' nine tails. One of his arms reached up, blocking his face with the thick sleeve of his coat. Her lash tore through the fabric, through flesh and bone, and curled around a part of his very essence. She tugged and Seifer cried out in agony as he felt it shredding his personality, his memories. She'd wounded him, but instead of blood, he'd started hemorrhaging yesterdays.

"They abandoned you," she hissed. "Your only friends and they turned their backs on you."

_"-- just eating out of someone's hand."_

Ultimecia smiled at the sound of his anguish, the howl of a wolf caught in a trap. Countless victims had fallen to her lash, and its power always sent a thrill coursing through her. She struck again.

"There's nothing left for you now. You betrayed the only home you've ever known…"

_"--bloodhound and hunt down every one of your kind."_

"Old… news…" he panted, too wounded to breathe properly.

Fragments of his past littered the ground, glittering shards of broken crystal. Seifer saw himself reflected in a hundred different mirrors, each one a reminder of a failure or unkindness in his past.

"…not that they liked you much to begin with. Where's that damnable smirk now?"

_"--Good luck, Seifer."_

She scourged him again, and the scar on his forehead burst open, the wound made fresh through his forced regression. Her weapon stripped away his self-deceptions and rationalizations, exposing all the aspects of his personality he'd tried to hide away. His screams gave way to frightened sobbing, the cry of a child unable to make sense of his pain.

"No place to hide from the fear," she said, gesturing to the remnants of his life. Her face contorted into a snarl. "Behind the swagger, you're no different from all the other filthy _humans _infecting this planet. You're struggling in vain to conceal the fact that there is no real _you, _only the unremitting terror. Everything else is just another illusion."

Ultimecia clenched her teeth and readied for a final attack. He lay at her feet, broken and bloodied, his clothes and his quintessence reduced to rags. Her lash struck true, purging him of the last vestiges of his identity. She laughed as she felt her weapon closing in around his heart, around his weak and malleable core.

She found only steel, inviolate and resolute. Ultimecia watched in horror as the central fragment of his personality dislodged and dropped to the earth before his face. She tried to catch him, but could not prevent him from falling into the memory.

She'd seen this moment during her many journeys through his subconscious. It rested forgotten and unused, buried under the dust of years, some insignificant trifle not worthy of remembrance. She swore her most vehement curses. More defiance, more unpredictability. The fulcrum of his life, and he'd _forgotten_ it, a lacuna induced by his training at Garden. Her rage receded into the mist as Seifer fell, Ultimecia unwillingly falling with him.

"--_be my Sorceress, Matron?"_

_A pause, significant to the adult, unnoticed by the child. She believes her heart has stopped in her chest. Destiny has come to claim Seifer. She would do anything to change the future. _

_You can kill him! Ultimecia hisses. Kill him and that future will never come to pass._

_Ultimecia's words go unheeded, Edea cannot hear her._

_Obey me, you miserable whore! You belong to me! Ultimecia screams in impotent rage. _

_"No, Seifer," says Edea. "I'm not a Sorceress."_

_He pouts. "But I wanna be a Knight!" _

_Edea pulls the covers up to his chin and tucks him in tight. She leans in close to him. "I'll tell you a secret, Seifer," Edea whispers this, careful not to let the other children overhear._

_"What?" he whispers back._

_"You already are one."_

_His eyes go wide. She kisses him goodnight and shuts off the light by his bed._

The darkness receded around them. Ultimecia staggered, thrown off balance by the power of the memory, recoiling from her contact with an unbreakable ego. She tugged her lash back and met with resistance. The memory had given him new life.

Seifer had pushed himself to his knees and wrapped the lash around his arm. His teeth clenched as he pulled on the lash, tearing flesh off his arm and dragging Ultimecia towards him. He pounced on her again, sitting on her chest, using his knees to pin her arms, and battering her face with his fists.

Through blood and broken teeth, she laughed at him, even as he continued pummeling her. She sent lightning coursing into his body, blasting him away from her. She rose into the air again, teeth gleaming as she laughed. Her wounds healed before his eyes.

"You still haven't figured it out, boy," she said. "How can you possibly hope to defeat me? It's futile to attack _me_, here, in this place where will reigns supreme."

Seifer looked up at her from the ground, a smirk breaking out across his shattered features. "You finally said something interesting."

He pulled himself to his feet and stood facing her, eyes closed. One hand extended to the memories on the ground as he searched through them with his mind. He found the one he wanted and it floated into his hand, exploding into a flash of light.

Ultimecia blinked, trying to clear her vision. She saw Seifer whole and unharmed. In his right hand, he held Hyperion, the blade crystalline and gleaming, a memory swirling within its depths. He'd created something more than a mere replica of his sword. He'd conjured its perfect form, the idealized concept of the weapon that no human smith could replicate.

The foolish child. How many times did she have to drum the lesson into him until he understood? "It can't hurt me," she mocked.

He shrugged. "It's not for you."

The weapon twirled in his hand, blade pointing inward to his stomach. She smiled – victory at last. He'd decided to stop fighting and give himself over to her. He wanted to die by his own hand, surrendering to whatever pleasant memory composed the blade. She floated down to his side, wings enfolding him in a parody of a loving embrace.

"Go ahead, my Knight," she murmured in his ear. "It's time for you to rest. One last memory and you can sleep."

Within the cocoon of her wings, he drove the blade into his stomach, gritting his teeth at the pain. His fingers fumbled at the trigger, and she pulled it for him. The shock sent waves coursing through both their bodies as he slumped into her. She caressed the face of her fallen Knight as his memory took them both.

_Seifer hadn't even _wanted _to fight. He'd just wanted to practice his swordfighting. Zell insisted on fighting him, then ran to tattle when Seifer won. Stupid crybaby._

_Now she'd taken away his swords _and _confined him to the boy's room. She wanted him to think about what he'd done, and he hadn't even done anything. He'd show her – he wouldn't think at all._

_A flash outside the window and Squall runs by, crying. He _always_ cries now. What a baby._

_How sweet, Ultimecia whispers. A memory of home._

_Seifer hears a weird noise outside the window. When he looks, he sees a grownup standing there, some guy dressed all in black. He's got a gunblade at his side, a _real _gunblade, like in the movies. Seifer's eyes widen as he looks at the guy. _

_"It's the Knight!" he breathes, leaning further out the window to look. He wants to yell out to the Knight, ask him for training or something, but he falls silent when Edea appears. _

_They start talking, and Seifer strains to hear the words. Ultimecia waits patiently for the memory to end, so she can assume control of the adult Seifer's body._

_An overwhelming pain consumes her, an existential migraine that threatens to tear her apart. Through Seifer's eyes Ultimecia looks down to the courtyard, to the conversation between Edea and the adult Squall._

_She gasps in horror when she sees her own face gazing back at her, broken and fallen at Edea's feet._

_No! she howls. Not like this! _

_Edea opens herself, assuming Ultimecia's power. The power beckons to itself, particle and anti-particle seeking mutual annihilation. She splits at the seams, caught in an agonizing feedback loop. Ultimecia feels herself torn from Seifer, tumbling through a psychic hurricane, falling into Edea._

_She lands in a distant corner of Edea's consciousness. She doesn't even try to possess Edea – it will take years for her to achieve that. And by that time, SeeD will have grown strong enough to send warriors into the future to oppose her, which will lead to her possessing Seifer which will send her… here._

Seifer regained consciousness outside the gates of horn and ivory, which swung open before him. He staggered to his feet, wrenching the gunblade out of his stomach. He forced his wounds to close, placing Hyperion over one shoulder as he walked towards the gate.

He stopped at the threshold, turning back to the spot he last saw Ultimecia. Only a few feathers on the ground marked her passing.

He laughed once as he crossed into the waking world. It took _how _many SeeDs to defeat her?


	7. 30 Minutes

7. 30 Minutes

At 11:00 the clock in the square proclaimed the hour, scaring away the pigeons perched on the nearby ledge. They took their seats, punctual as ever, because she did not tolerate tardiness. He sat looking up the hill, eyes tracing the silhouette of the Communications Tower.

She sat facing Dollet's Central Square. No one had followed them, so she placed her phone on her left side to indicate safety. She scanned the square, seeking out crevices and shadows.

At 11:02 the waiter came to them.

The waiter feigned surprise when he saw them, attempting to poke fun at their weekly visit. Then he asked what they'd like today, pretending he didn't already know.

Across from her, he placed his usual order, believing that the flavor the day sounds good, y'know? She noticed that he did not bother to _read _the specials prior to placing his order. She predicted he would regret this decision in less than five minutes.

The waiter turned to her, duitifully pretended to ignore her missing eye, asked what she would like.

Espresso. Please.

The waiter nodded and vanished.

At 11:03 the pigeons returned. Someone swore that he _just _washed his car, damn it.

At 11:05 the waiter brought their beverages. If they needed anything else, they should just ask. The waiter vanished again.

At 11:06 he complained that the flavor of the day tasted like some nasty-ass nuts, y'know?

At 11:08 she thought that no one had followed them for quite some time. She wondered if they'd given up or improved their tradecraft.

At 11:09 he gulped down the last of his coffee, complaining that the taste sent chills up his spine, y'know? He called for the waiter and explained that he just wanted some regular coffee, y'know?

At 11:11 the waiter brought some regular coffee, vanishing again.

At 11:12 he unfolded the newspaper.

At 11:14 she started reviewing the budget. They hadn't touched the bulk of the money yet, and they could sustain themselves indefinitely.

At 11:16 a dark van drove past, windows tinted. She recognized the license plate as belonging to Garden.

At 11:18 he mused that things could've gone the other way, y'know? Maybe we'd have drawn that mission, y'know?

At 11:19 he held his shin and howled in pain.

At 11:21 she finished her espresso, turning the cup upside down on the saucer.

At 11:22 he sighed. Her eye narrowed as she studied him. The months of waiting had taken their toll on him. She could feel his faith wavering, even though he'd never dare say it.

At 11:23 he fidgeted in his seat. Seven minutes to go and he wanted to leave early. She could see it on his face

At 11:24 he read three horoscopes from the paper. She snorted derisively.

At 11:25 a dog howled, the sound reverberating throughout the square.

At 11:27 a long shadow fell across their table, a ghost in gray that appeared from the corner of her vision.

"Been waiting long?" he asked.


	8. Nothing Important Happened Today

Surveillance report 1641668

Prepared by SeeD Bell, #52554

Commenced surveillance of subject at 7:53 a.m.

Subject left residence, unescorted, and proceeded to The Dollet Drip. Subject purchased a newspaper en route, which he read over his coffee, making proofreader's marks on the text. Subject drew mustaches on all faces in the paper except for those already possessing mustaches, which he removed with correction fluid.

Subject ordered a second cup of coffee and did the crossword puzzle. Symbols on crossword unrecognizable, possibly ancient Centran in origin. Paper appended as attachment 1; crossword sent to Crypto for analysis.

Subject proceeded to Chapter & Verse. Subject purchased a copy of Pollard's _Unexpected Dissimilarities in the Execratory Systems of Ochus and Malboros. _Subject exited store and sat on a nearby bench. Made several notations on the 729-page text and placed the book underneath a bush. No alterations revealed during cursory examination; will forward results after thorough study of the book.

Subject proceeded to Wycliffe Park. Subject spent an hour playing speed chess against assorted competitors. Had no significant conversation during this time. Subject recorded the games in algebraic chess notation and discarded the notes on leaving the park. Notes appended as attachment 2.

Subject purchased a pretzel from a vendor and sat on a park bench. Subject fed pretzel to nearby waterfowl while arguing with them on the long-term ramifications of Galbadia's military buildup. To bolster his position, subject wrote a breakdown of Galbadia's military defense budget on the pretzel wrapper. Subject sided with the ducks, expressing a deep antipathy to swans and summarily dismissing their opinions. Pretzel wrapper appended as attachment 3.

Subject proceeded to the farmers' market at Highfield Downs. Subject juggled fruit until confronted by an angry vendor. Subject purchased fruit and continued to juggle until asked to leave.

Subject proceeded to Montblanc Hill. Subject staged an elaborate series of fruit races, keeping an extensive record of the results, which he later discarded. Subject held a ceremony proclaiming grapefruit the victor. Race records appended as attachment 4; fruit too damaged for recovery.

Subject proceeded to the Dollet Art Institute. Subject viewed an exhibit on the basket weaving traditions of indigenous peoples of the Grandidi Forests. Subject loudly proclaimed his enthusiasm for the topic to all present. Subject purchased _The Dollet Dukedom: a History in Portraiture_. Subject drew mustaches on all portraits except for those already possessing mustaches, which he removed with correction fluid. Subject discarded the book on leaving the Institute. Book of defaced portraits appended as attachment 5.

Subject proceeded to Choco Chip's Petting Zoo. Subject purchased a handful of gysahl greens which he fed to a chocobo named Emperor Dunkles. Subject held a coronation ceremony for Emperor Dunkles using a paper crown he (the subject) had made. Emperor Dunkles attempted to eat the crown. Subject declared Emperor Dunkles the best chocobo in the entire world. Subject purchased a Choco Chip infant one-piece (newborn size) which he discarded on leaving the zoo. Infant one-piece appended as attachment 5; half a paper crown appended as attachment 6.

Subject proceeded to The Dollecatessen and ordered a cup of coffee and an egg salad sandwich. Subject cut crusts off egg salad sandwich prior to eating it. While eating, subject drew (from memory) a detailed topographical map of Trabia on a napkin. Napkin map appended as attachment 7; crust appended as attachment 8.

Subject proceeded to a newsstand and purchased a copy of _Topless Tarts of Timber_. Subject drew mustaches on all faces in the magazine and discarded it. Magazine appended as attachment 9.

Subject returned to residence.

Subject's actions indicate an awareness of the surveillance placed on him and a desire to frustrate it. This awareness renders continued observation pointless. Subject has taken no meaningful action in the last four days and has escalated his campaign of subversion. I wish to renew my request for a new assignment.


End file.
